


To Save Dean Winchester

by calikitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Declarations Of Love, Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe in Miracles?, Fluff and Angst, Heaven, Hugs, M/M, Season 9, ending, possible maybe referance to suicidal thoughts?, seriously so many hugs I regret the amount of hugs, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calikitten/pseuds/calikitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 9 alternate ending (That turned into series ending). Castiel decides to save Dean Winchester, just as he has always done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am sorry about this in advance, but I had this idea while watching the season 9 finale, and I am glad this did not happen!
> 
> I do plan to create one or two more chapters to add a more happy ending.
> 
> This is my first story I posted on this site (I do love this site, it is amazing).

 “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what? He’s dead, too.” -Metatron

           

Castiel thought that Dean Winchester looked peaceful in death. Lying on the bed in the bunker, he looked as if he was in a deep and quiet sleep, finally free of the rage that had plagued him since the Mark of Cain, and the endless burdens he had always carried with him. However, Castiel knew that this was not the case; he knew the man before him was no longer alive, as much as he would like to deny the fact. Even so, the angel crept carefully towards the side of the bed, as if afraid to wake the hunter. As Castiel looked upon his face, the illusion of sleep was suddenly broken by the large wound in the middle of Dean’s chest, where the angel blade had been forced clean through his body. Dried blood clotted around the fabric of his plaid shirt, and Castiel was momentarily surprised as he felt a tear roll down his right cheek, unsure of the foreign human reaction.

 _A world without Dean Winchester_ , Castiel thought suddenly. Such a world was now one that he lived in, Castiel realized. Dean would never again call upon Castiel for help. Castiel would never press his hand to the man’s face to heal his wounds again. Dean would never pray to Castiel again, in times of desperation. He would never again get a chance to show the angel what it meant to be human; to guide him in understanding the complexity of free will. Castiel would never again stand by Dean Winchester at the end of the world, when all hope was lost, only to hear him crack a joke about some vague television reference. Dean Winchester would never again look proudly into the face of his younger brother that he cared so deeply about. Castiel could never again stare into the bright green eyes of the human he had grown to care so much for, and tell the stubborn man all the good that he had done in the world, and all the good that he could continue to bring to the world.

Cas’s hand involuntarily pulled up the dead man’s sleeve, revealing the Mark of Cain, and above it the dark imprint of Castiel’s hand from when he first met Dean Winchester and saved him from the depths of Hell, his angelic grace leaving a mark on the shoulder that he had touched. The mark was slightly faded, but a scar such as that would never truly fade completely. Cas felt his hand move to rest gently upon the handprint that he had left, the skin jarringly cold to his touch. Cas was vaguely aware that a stray tear of his fell upon the plaid fabric of the hunter’s shirt.

All Castiel had wanted was to save Dean Winchester. It was as if his sole purpose in life was to protect the man now lying dead in front of him. Everything that he had done had been to save him. So, the angel knew he only had one choice; Dean Winchester had taught him that there was always a choice. And, just as he always had, Castiel would choose Dean Winchester.

The angel’s hands met the cold sides of the dead hunter’s face, the bright light emanating from his fingertips draining the power of Castiel’s stolen grace. Cas could feel the life draining from deep inside him, and flowing through his fingertips into Dean Winchester. Slowly, the dead man’s eyes opened to meet Castiel’s gaze, and angel found himself surprised by the depth of the warm green color of the man’s eyes, despite the many other times he had met his gaze before.

“Cas...” Dean managed to whisper quietly.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel responded, his voice surprisingly steady in spite of the energy draining from his vessel.

Dean’s brows furrowed slightly, as his hand grasped at the angel’s trench coat tightly. “Cas...what—what are you...” Dean was attempting to sit up, his muscles barely responding his actions.

“No, Dean, lie down,” the angel soothed, “I’m healing you. You must lie down.”

Dean’s hands continued to cling to Castiel’s trench coat, pulling the angel closer to him. “No...” he said quietly, “You can’t... they said... you don’t have enough juice, Cas...”

“I can save you, Dean.”

Dean frowned, and Castiel felt his stomach lurch at the man’s sad expression. He wished Dean would smile again; Dean had the most wonderful smile. “But, I—you... what if you don’t—” Dean stuttered.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel interrupted, as he began to hear Dean’s voice wavering, “Don’t worry about me. I have to save you, Dean—”

The angel covered Dean’s mouth as he began to protest.

“Listen to me, Dean Winchester.” Castiel could hear his voice finally breaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the life slowly leaving his body, or the course of emotion he felt suddenly flowing through him. “I have lived for a very long time, and I have never met a man like you, as selfless as you. I know you don’t believe it, but you are a good man, Dean Winchester; the best man I have ever known, and I have known so many. You—you have saved more lives than you could ever know, mine among them, and the world is a better place with you in it...” The tears rolled freely down the now dying angel’s face, and fear that he would be unable to get the words that needed to be said out before he died gripped him violently. “You have saved your brother’s life, Dean, and Sam needs you. And you have saved me from myself, Dean, and shown me what it means to be human. I—I have made more mistakes in my life than I can count, but saving you was never of them. Please Dean…I—I never knew I was capable of such emotions before I met you, Dean...”

It took a surprising amount of strength for Castiel to touch the hand print he had left on Dean’s shoulder, his fingers matching their imprints exactly, as the angel attempted to communicate the emotions that he had a difficultly forming words to express. “So now you must—you have to understand why I need to save you...”

“Cas...” the hunter’s strength was returning now, and his hand reached out and gently grabbed the sides Castiel’s face, his now watery green eyes meeting the blue of the angel’s. “Please, Cas, no...you can’t...I—I need you...” Dean could barely form a coherent sentence, and he pulled the angel’s face desperately closer to his own.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel whispered quietly, as his forehead dropped against the hunter’s, and the angel felt relieved to finally speak the words that he had meant to speak for so long, relieved that words for what he had felt could be formed, relief that he knew what he felt now, relief that he could tell this to Dean. Because, that was truth, Castiel knew then; he loved Dean Winchester with all that he had, and now he could save him. Briefly, without a loss of eye contact, their lips met as the last of Castiel’s grace drained into Dean’s body, healing him completely.

The angel fell limp into Dean’s arms. “I—I love you, too, Cas.” Dean’s words came out as barely a whimper, and he hugged the trench-coated figure tightly, shaking him almost violently. “Cas...” he choked out. “Cas, please... don’t—don’t leave me...”

 

 

Sam Winchester stumbled into Dean’s room quickly, after hearing a soft sobbing noise, which he assumed to be Castiel returning to the bunker. Sam blinked rapidly through his tear-stained and alcohol-impaired vision, unable to comprehend the sight before him.

“Dean...” Sam breathed. His brother was _alive_. He saw Dean Winchester clung to the lifeless body of Castiel, tears pouring down his face.

“Dean!” Sam called out desperately, running over to his brother’s side. He grabbed at his brother’s shoulders, their solid form proving Dean’s existence. “Cas...”

“Sammy...” Dean sobbed, unwilling to let go of the angel, despite Sam’s efforts at pulling him away. “He’s gone... I couldn’t... he brought me back... he shouldn’t have done it, Sammy.”

“Dean...” Sam stated, dumbly, uncomprehending of the conflicting emotions overpowering him, his face still wet with tears. He managed to wrestle his brother free of Castiel, and Dean immediately clung to Sam, enveloping him in a desperate embrace.

“Sammy,” Dean said again, pressing his tear-soaked face into his younger brother’s shoulder, “He shouldn’t be dead... I should be—I should be dead, Sammy. Not—not him...”

“No, Dean,” Sam told his older brother, his voice firm, as he wrapped his arms tightly around Dean. “You shouldn’t be dead. Cas—he wanted you to live. He wanted to save you, and... you have to accept that. You have to live for him, Dean, because even if you think you don’t want to be saved.... you just have to. Believe me, I know, and you know, too. You tried to convince me, and you were right. It’s worth it, Dean. For you; for Cas; for me, Dean...”

Sam felt Dean clench his hand into the back of his shirt, and took it as acceptance of his words.

Suddenly, Sam chuckled slightly, although it came out as more of a quiet sob.

“What?...” Dean questioned, quietly.

“It’s such a Winchester thing to do, Dean. To sacrifice yourself to save the other...”

Dean Winchester held on to his younger brother’s embrace more tightly. “Yeah, it is, Sammy.”


	2. My heaven

Castiel had been in heaven many times before; perhaps he had spent even more time there than he had on Earth. But, this time, when Castiel went to heaven it was different. He could never go back to Earth, because he was no longer an angel, he was dead. So, Castiel’s soul went to heaven just like anyone else’s.

When Castiel arrived in heaven, he expected to see the autistic man’s beautiful heaven that he had visited so many times before, to relax himself. So, when Castiel did not arrive there, he was surprised. He had never thought of what his own heaven would be, but he was not shocked when he saw it, because of course that is what it would be.

“I’m not good luck, Dean.” Castiel felt himself telling Dean, just as he had long ago. After he had betrayed Dean. After he had lost himself. After he had lost everything.

Dean stared back into Castiel’s eyes, his eyes shining green in the darkness.

“Yeah, but you know what?” Dean said, “Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench... Sorry, but I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Castiel’s heart skips a beat when he heard Dean said those words again. He had never forgotten them, and yet it was somehow surreal to hear Dean speak them again.

“And anyway, nut up, all right? We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you?” Dean continues, rambling on now.

All Castiel did was stare back at Dean the first time the moment happened, and that was all Castiel could do again. He was sure his face was taking on an adoring expression.

Dean stared back, “What?” he said quietly after a long moment.

Castiel spoke again, the words familiar. “Well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but—” _I love you._ “I detect a note of forgiveness.” Castiel’s mind filled in the words differently now.

“Yeah, well, I'm probably gonna die tomorrow, so...” Dean trailed off, and Castiel wished he knew what he was going to say, but there was something he needed to say first.

“Well, I'll go with you. And I'll do my best.” Castiel said immediately.

“Thanks,” Dean said.

“So, can I ask..” Castiel said, smiling now, “the plan?”

Dean smiled back, and looked to the left quickly, as if he was embarrassed, breaking eye contact for a moment.

Cas smiled broader. This was his Heaven. He and Dean were going to die tomorrow, but they would face it together. Castiel knew then that they were both cursed.


	3. Our Heaven

Castiel could only stay in his heaven for so long. It gave him immense joy to replay the memory, but after a few times, a sharp feeling of emptiness would press its way in his chest as he realized it was not real, not at that moment. Dean was not actually standing there staring at him, smiling at him with his bright green eyes, and saying those words that Castiel has hung on to for so long. Dean was down on Earth somewhere where Castiel could not go anymore, hunting, and doing good for the world. Castiel hoped with all that he had, which he thought didn’t really amount to anything anymore, that Dean was doing alright; he hoped that through all his troubles, something was down there to make Dean smile, if even for a fraction of a second. When he stared at his memory of Dean’s face smiling at him, he wondered if he would ever allow himself to wish that Dean were here with him, but he knew that he could not; he could not do that to Dean Winchester, no matter the harmlessness of a simple thought.

Still, as he stared upon Heaven’s image of Dean for the last time, he felt a cold sadness seep into him, as if he really was leaving Dean; he had to remind himself that he had saved him. He silently walked away from his Heaven.

After a few moments of navigating through the various planes of existence throughout Heaven, given that he had been an angel and had some concept of how the place worked, he found himself standing in front of a door, at which he seemed to arrive at by coincidence. Castiel pushed open the door slowly.

Inside was a bar area filled with a few people that Castiel recognized. Ellen Harvelle poured drinks by a counter, to a man with a large mane of hair flowing behind his back. Her daughter, Jo Harvelle stood by her, sipping idly at a drink. Bobby Singer sat next to the man, and turned around instantly, as Ellen, Jo, and the long-haired man looked up at Castiel as he entered.

“Hello,” Castiel said as he walked over to them, realizing that he must be in what the Winchesters had called the Roadhouse, which must be heaven for someone.

The four people in the Roadhouse turned their heads toward Castiel as he walked further inside, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Bobby stood from where he was sitting and Ellen put the bottle down that she was holding. 

Jo was the first to walk around the counter, followed by Ellen, then Bobby, then finally the other man.

"Castiel," Jo said, once they all stood in front of him.

"Hello," Castiel said again.

The silence stretched on for a long time after that, as they stared at Castiel.

"My boys?" Bobby asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"They are..." Castiel began, searching for the right word. He almost said safe, but it wouldn't do any good to lie, not to these people. "Alive," he finished.

Bobby nodded, and Dean saw the other three breathe out heavily.

“It’s good to see you, Cas,” Jo said, holding out her hand.

Castiel took her hand in his, when he realized it was for a handshake.

“You too,” he said, meaning the words.

Then, Ellen turned to him. “Thank you,” she said, putting her arm around Castiel for a small hug.

Castiel hugged gently back.

“Bobby…” Castiel said, turning the man.“I—Dean” he stared to say, feeling the need to say something, “He was dying, I had to save him, I just had to. I—” Castiel’s words came out in fragments, but they were stopped as he felt Bobby’s arms wrap around him.

“I know,” Bobby said firmly, into his shoulder, because of course, Castiel thought, Bobby knows.

Castiel allowed himself to melt into the hunter’s embrace.

“Thank you.” Bobby said, the words carrying meaning.

Castiel felt tears flood into his vision. “It was nothing,” Castiel said back, releasing himself from Bobby’s hug.

“Oh,” Bobby said, after that, “This is Ash.” He pointed to the man with the long hair.

“Hey, Cas,” Ash said, shaking Castiel’s hand enthusiastically. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hello, Ash,” Castiel greeted back.

“Hey,” Jo said, walking toqards the counter, “Want a drink?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, walking back to the counter with the others.

* * *

 

Castiel waited a long time at the Roadhouse, until there was a knock at the door.

The five people stared at each other.

“I’ll get it,” Bobby said, walking brusquely to the door and pulling it open.

Sam Winchester stood behind it.

“Bobby,” Sam said.

Bobby did not say anything. He instead wrapped Sam in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, boy.” He said, finally.

“Yeah, you too.” Sam replied, smiling back at him.

“Hello, Sam.” Cas said, walking up to him after Bobby, feeling relief as he saw Sam looking back at him.

“Cas,” Sam said, and Castiel was again wrapped in a large hug. “I’m glad you’re here,” Sam continued, and eventually let go of Cas.

“You, too.” Cas replied.

“Jo, Ellen, Ash. It’s been a long time,” Sam said, greeting them with handshakes and hugs.

After that, the group just looked at each other, a silent question unspoken.

Castiel dared to speak it. “Dean?” he asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. “Still fighting.”

* * *

 

It was not too long before the door to the roadhouse opened again, but it felt like sentries for Castiel, even though the angel had known many longer spaces of time.

Dean Winchester opened the door quickly when he entered the roadhouse, his face frantic with panic.

All the inhabitants of the diner froze.

“Dean.” Sam said first, throwing down his drink and bolting out of the bar stool.

“Sammy,” Dean said, relief heavy in his voice. He wrapped Sam in a bone-crushing hug that Sam returned just as forcefully. Dean buried his face in his brother’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Sam replied.

When Dean broke the embrace, Castiel saw him smile a genuine smile, that formed along with the relief etched in his brows.

“Bobby!” Dean said next, hugging the older man, his smile never leaving his face.

“Hey, my boy.” Bobby smiled back at him.

Castiel waited patiently as Dean hugged Ellen, Jo, and gave a half hug to Ash before turning to Castiel.

When Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s he smiled beautifully, his smile wider and crinkles appearing on his cheeks, and suddenly the only thing that mattered in the world to Castiel was the look Dean gave him.

Castiel smiled back so hard his face hurt.

“Cas,” Dean said, walking towards him purposefully, and wrapping him into a hug. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean in return, fisting his jacket in his hands. He buried his face into Dean’s shoulder, and tears rolled onto Dean’s jacket, and everything was alright as he held Dean, the man that he had saved, in his arms and Dean held him right back.

“Dean.” Castiel said, his voice so low and quiet that he could not hear it.

Dean must have heard it because his embrace tightened on Castiel for a moment, and then he whispered is Castiel’s ear. “Me too.”

Castiel knew what that meant and he was sure he might squeeze Dean to death if they were not in heaven, but he had to know for sure.

“I love you, too.” Dean told Castiel firmly, as if reading the angel’s mind, and then Dean took Castiel’s face in his hands, and Castiel reluctantly released his embrace only to clutch onto Dean’s shoulders instead. When Dean pulled Castiel’s face towards him for a kiss, Castiel couldn’t help but laugh.

Castiel laughed and smiled as Dean’s lips parted from his and green eyes stared back into his questioningly.

“What’s funny, Cas,” Dean asked, his voice soft and quiet.

“I don’t know,” Castiel told him, his hands reaching up to touch Dean’s face. “I’m happy,” Castiel concluded, kissing Dean again slowly.

When they parted, Dean smiled back at Castiel’s huge grim, laughing quietly.

“Me too,” he admitted.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long while, until Sam walked over to them, smiling at them. “Hey, you guys want a drink.”

Dean smiled at his brother and wrapped one arm around Castiel.

“Yeah,” he answered, “I could really use a drink.”

The two joined Sam and their friends at the Roadhouse, in their heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned into super fluff from everyone dying?? I am sorry, but I do hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Have a lovely day!


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